


Fragile Hearts and Eager Bodies

by lucy_in_the_sky



Category: Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phone Call, like ~the~ phone call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_in_the_sky/pseuds/lucy_in_the_sky
Summary: Elio answers Oliver's phone call only to have his heart broken by Oliver's declaration of his engagement.Angst with a happy ending





	Fragile Hearts and Eager Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> Just a disclaimer, I am nowhere near as talented or intelligent as André Aciman or the writers who publish fanficion in this fandom, but these boys captioned my heart and I needed to throw my hat into the ring with my own fic.
> 
>  
> 
> The italics in the middle section of the piece show Elio's flashback to their summer.

_Inverno._

Winter.

  
~

  
Winter was out in full force, the comfort and warmth that always radiated from the summer months long gone, leaving cold and pain in its wake.

The summer's sun and heat were replaced with snow and chill and the weather also turned cold.

Life had been unbearably bleak ever since _he_ left. I had finished out the summer, tried to go out with friends on a regular basis to appease my parents who didn't want to see me let life pass me by. I got drunk and made bad decisions and danced and smoked and swam and biked and did everything that everyone else did. But the difference between all the other faces in the multitude of crowds I found myself in and the face that belonged to me was that they all felt something.

I felt empty.

Oliver had left, taking a piece of me with him that never seemed to replace itself like the tail of a lizard after its old one falls off. I lacked the ability to fill his hole with mundane and worldly things. It was like trying to cover up a gaping crevice with a bandaid and prayers.

I cried and cried that first week. I was inconsolable and I felt absolutely everything. The pain and the heartbreak and the regret-oh the regret!-and the deep longing that had never left my bones since I first laid eyes on Oliver's body and mind.

But after a little while, despite what my father advised, I began to feel nothing. I shut out the world and all its pains and grievances but also its joys and blessings. I failed to feel anything but a heavy numbness that weighed me down with its sheer nothingness.

I tried to forget his touch on my sun kissed skin and how his tan arms would wrap around my body with ease and make me feel so cared for. I also tried to forget his mouth and the soothing words he'd speak, the way his lips captured mine in kiss after kiss, showing me what I meant to him.

I tried to forget him but some part of me hidden past all this forgetting still held onto his touch and smell and meaning even though I banished him from my memories. It refused to forget such a perfect man simply because I was childish and couldn't take heartbreak. It held on, waiting for the right moment to remind me of how much I needed Oliver, how much I will always need him.

  
~

  
I was alone, dozing on the couch when he called.

My Walkman was filling my ears with the sound of some song, I had lost track and wasn't really listening, and I was utterly blank until I heard _his_ voice saying _my_ name.

"Elio?"

One word and all the feelings were back, flooding my entire body with heat and piercing cold and sadness and pure, unadulterated joy. I felt like crying.

All the memories were suddenly replaying in the movie theatre of my mind, moments from our perfect summer being broadcasted across my eyes, reminding me of all that I had and all that I lost.

"You there?"

I had forgotten that I was still on the phone.

"Yeah, yes, hi,"

Words tumbled out of my mouth; my brain was still in shock from all these forgotten feelings that it could not tell my lips what to say.

I think I told him I'm fine. That was a lie but I could not focus on reality when the man that had meant so much to me was finally speaking to me after months of cold and painful silence.

I think I told him I missed him. That was the truth because every fiber of my being had never stopped needing him since the day I first saw him drive up to our villa when the air was still hot and my heart not so cold.

I sat there, telephone pressed to my ear and eyes open in wonder.

Maybe he's calling to say he's coming back to visit and he'll take my into his arms and hold me and tell me he never really wanted to let me go and say that going away was a mistake. He'll kiss me and utter his own name into my mouth, and I'll forget whether I'm Elio and he's Oliver or it's the other way around and I won't ever want to remember who is really who. He will stay in my bed- _our_ bed-and we'll sleep together in that we will fall asleep in each other's company but also in that he will make love to me and I will finally be filled with him again.

"I have some news," I heard these words come out of the speaker that I still held tight against my naive head.

His voice brought me back into reality. He did not sound like a man who was telling the man he cares deeply for that he was finally returning to his side.

"N-news?"

The hope that I had been quietly harboring since I watched that train carry my Oliver away suddenly shattered in front of my eyes.

"You're getting married. . . I suppose?"

Once again, my mouth spoke without the discretion of my brain, echoing my fears before I could stop the words from leaving the safety of the dark place in my imagination.

I had said the words, yes, but every inch of my body begged them not to be true. They were simply reflections of my fears, and could not possibly hold any truth to the man on the other line.

I heard him heave a sad sigh and with that intake of breath, all light left in my imagination ceased to brighten my mind.

"I might be getting married next spring, yeah,"

His declaration confirmed the fears that had began to take root the day he left for his home in the States. He has forgotten about me. Moved on and failed to remember or at least care about our summer and it's significance. I was nothing more than a summer fling but he was my everything.

My heart sunk to my toes, robbing my body of the joy it had just been reunited with seconds before.

The part of me that was not falling apart at Oliver's words heard him say that their relationship had been off and on for a while now.

The other part silently cried out in agony.

Why hadn't he told me? Was our summer just a couple weeks of a naughty fling that Oliver never intended to remember? Did he ever feel the same way about me? It felt like he did but maybe I was just desperate to matter to someone, and any sign that Oliver gave that showed or pretended to show his adoration brought me to my knees.

"That's wonderful news," I uttered, completely broken.

I wished this conversation had gone a completely different way. That he called me to tell me he wanted to see me again, tell me he was coming back to Italy soon. He'd make me feel warm and loved and cared for and worth something.

Instead of feeling any of these, his telephone call had stripped me of my last ounce of hope that a small part of me held on to.

I was mad at myself for being so hurt at his engagement. He had been able to move on and replace me but I was still falling at his feet, ready to do whatever it was he asked of me. I still worshiped Oliver and I was mad that he never lost this power over me. I was mad that I was being so dramatic over an event that, to Oliver, could be so easily brushed off.

"Do you mind?"

My mind froze.

Do I mind?

Did he really just ask me that?

If he did, that meant

That meant that what I thought mattered to him.

Maybe I was wrong to jump to the conclusion that I was nothing above a pretty body to fuck for a summer. I could have been jumping the gun, so to speak, when I thought that his engagement meant he'd completely moved in and forgotten about me and my significance, pushed it entirely out of his conscience.

Do I mind?

The real question was did _he_ mind?

If he really felt what I truly thought he did this past summer, did he remember his experience and does he still cling to those feelings?

I closed my eyes and saw the reflection of the summer sun on Oliver's tan skin as he reached out for me, pulling me into his body and kissing my forehead with affection.

I saw the ripple of his abdominal muscles as he used all his energy to pound his hips closer to mine, making sure I felt as pleasured as possible.

Miscellaneous memories were brought to the forefront of my brain. I began to remember specific nights and beautiful moments in time from our summer.

I saw sun and green and smiles and arms and tears and hair and lips and darkness and fear and water and everything.

And Oliver.

I saw Oliver.

  
~

  
_Estate._

Summer.

  
~

  
_I felt the harsh, summer sun on my pale skin, warming up my entire body with its rays as I lay on the grass by the pool._

_I heard a door shut from where I believed the house to be, then immediately heard the pattering of familiar footsteps, getting closer and closer to where I was relaxing on a towel._

_I cracked open my eyes to see Oliver's silhouette. He was standing in between the sun and my face in such a way that I could only make out the outline of his features in front of the glaring light of the sun._

_I reached up to him, smiling when he leaned down and kissed my hand. He sat himself down next to my body, keeping his hand wrapped around mine as I sat up to meet his lips with my own._

_He turned his head and planted a kiss on my lips, reading my mind and knowing what it was I wanted from him._

_I smiled into the kiss, letting him take control. I'd always let him take control._

_It seemed to me that I would never tire of kissing my Oliver. I could spend the rest of my life here on earth just kissing this man and be perfectly content. Happy, even._

_I sighed into his mouth and felt him push me back onto my towel, moving one of his toned legs to wrap around my hips, straddling me as he kissed me deeper._

_I was thrilled that I could freely kiss this man in the privacy of my yard. That we were blocked from the world and all its hate, even if just for several hours, free to be ourselves in the comfort of my accepting home._

_My hands found purchase in Oliver's sandy hair, pulling at the strands there to elicit beautiful sounds from the man above me._

_I was successful in my quest because with every one of my gentle but firm tugs, Oliver made a low sound, like a grunt mixed with a moan, and he deepened the kiss with his whole body._

_His hips moved against mine, his hands caressed my everywhere, his tongue explored my mouth, and I surrendered to him, like I always do._

_I moaned into his mouth and slid my hands further down his body, my end destination being his firm apricot._

_I felt myself getting more and more aroused, felt the both of us growing harder out in the summer sun all until- "Oliver?"_

_The man in question froze above me, rolling off of my body until he was lying right next to me instead of on top of me._

_We both smoothed out our clothes and Oliver reached for the book I had brought outside as my father walked toward us._

_He came up to Oliver, asking him for help on a project that had just been presented to him._

_Oliver cleared his throat and agreed to go with him. I think that he believes he fooled my father with his attempt to cover up what we were doing out here. But one look at me over his shoulder from my dad as he walked away confirms that my father definitely knew._

_I smiled sheepishly and grabbed the book Oliver had dropped when he stood up to walk back to the house. I heard my father chuckle and continue to walk back inside, leaving me, once again, alone, just me and the amiable sun._

_Several hours later, I wandered inside, getting bored of the sun and my book and in all honesty, I just missed Oliver._

_I walked past my father's study, peeking my head in to see both men sitting at one of the desks, papers strewn across the surface. Both looked exhausted but also extremely intrigued by the work they were finishing up._

_Oliver looked up, perhaps sensing my presence, and he smiled at me, sitting up more in his chair._

_My father, too, raised his head to look up at the two of us. He smiled knowingly and dismissed Oliver. He said that they have done more than enough work for one day, and that Oliver should enjoy the sun in the couple weeks he had left._

_Oliver stood and thanked my father, making his way across the room to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the staircase._

_We didn't enjoy the sun like my father suggested, but we enjoyed each other's bodies and I would give up seeing the sun ever again if it meant Oliver would stay with me for forever._

_He led me to our room and laid me down on our bed, kissing me sweetly as he removed my clothing._

_Once I was completely naked and spread out for him, he started to kiss down my body, leaving purpling marks in the wake of his wet mouth._

_His mouth found my cock, staying there to pleasure me before traveling lower to my entrance._

_We had done this so many times, it was far from new, but every time Oliver made love to me felt special. He always treated me like a work of art, meant to be cherished and worshiped._

_And worshiped I felt. Oliver took me apart piece by piece until I was left shaking in his arms, desperate for his body._

_We both came at the same time, Oliver inside me and me across both of our chests. He pulled out and began to put me back together with kisses and sweet words and gentle caresses on my overheated skin._

_I felt exhausted but I felt loved because I knew this man would treat me with all the care in the world._

_Oliver cleaned us up and came back into bed, cuddling up close to my side and planting a few kisses on any part of my skin he could reach._

_My eyes were dropping fast and I knew I would be asleep in a matter of seconds._

_Oliver smiled and planted a fleeting kiss on my nose, whispering softly in my ear, "Fall asleep, I'll be here when you wake up,"._

  
~

  
Back to the present.

  
~

  
Suddenly, I was pulled out of the memory of that one day in the middle of our summer and plunged back to the present, to the phone call that was breaking my heart.

I remembered his words and that loaded question: did I mind?

What kind of question was that?

Of _course_ I minded!

I had fallen for Oliver so hard this summer I could not breathe those first weeks that I was without him. He had become my everything and I was so utterly lost without his steady presence.

I thought about him and his smile and his body and his heart and his oh so intelligent mind and I thought about our weeks together.

Did I mind?

Yes. The answer was always yes because I loved Oliver. I _love_ him.

I almost dropped the phone.

I love him. I truly do, it makes sense, the most sense.

I could hear my parents congratulating Oliver from the phone in my father's study.

I asked myself when I had fallen in love with Oliver but that was such a silly question I almost laughed out loud.

I loved him when he stepped out of the taxi that first day.

I loved him when he rejected me and went out of his way to ignore my presence for weeks.

I loved him when he told be to grow up and meet him at midnight.

I loved him when he cried in Rome the morning of his departure when he believed me to be sleeping.

I always loved him and I'm beginning to see that I always will.

Fuck.

This complicates things.

I heard my mother put the phone down and heard their line go dead. It was just me and him again.

His question hung in the air like a noose dangling above me head, threatening me and taunting me to choose: do I speak or do I die?

I tried to tell him that I _did_ mind that I couldn't bear to see him get married when he had my heart in his hands. I wanted to beg him to come home to me and break off the engagement to stay by my side because I needed him.

But I couldn't be that selfish.

He deserved a good and happy and _normal_ life that I just couldn't provide for him. I couldn't bear him children. He wouldn't be allowed to hold my hand or kiss me in public unless we double checked, triple checked, our surroundings. We would never work.

I felt a tear slide down my cheek and I took a gaping breath that I'm positive Oliver heard as well.

Now was the time. I would either speak or die and then be expected to live with my decision.

Do I watch Oliver live without me or ruin his life by plaguing him with the guilt of breaking my heart.

I took another deep breath.

"Yes," I gasped.

He didn't respond. He probably forgot the question.

"Yes, I mind," I elaborated.

It was his turn to take a shaky breath.

I didn't want him to call me selfish or childish or unfair before I could tell him my side of this complex story.

"I can't let you go, Oliver, I love you too much,"

I didn't want this to happen over a telephone call, this wasn't supposed to happen this way but I couldn't hang up still unsure of whether he knew I loved him or not.

I began to cry. I sniffled into the receiver and prayed that he would break my heart swiftly and not draw out the agony with long and complicated apologies and excuses.

There was only silence from his side of the phone.

I wanted to die.

I listened for any sounds that he made, finally hearing a slow, quivering inhale.

" _Oliver_ ," he breathed.

My heart stopped. My tears did not.

I couldn't believe my ears, but I chose to trust them that they heard him correctly.

He still needed me, he confessed through that single word.

I wasn't that unintelligent. I could read between the lines.

"Elio," I answered, just as breathy but with more assurance than him.

"Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio," I continued, attempting to display my whole heart through my name.

"Come home," I begged him, not caring if I was being selfish, I needed to be with him.

I could sense his thoughts, his brain mulling over my invitation. I would bet anything that he had that cute crease in between his eyebrows that he always got when he made a decision.

"Okay," he answered plainly. "I'll book a ticket tonight,"

My face lit up and I broke out in a smile as wide as the room.

"I will tell my parents," I replied, standing up to do just that.

He chuckled at my eagerness and promised to see me before the sun set tomorrow.

I told him I loved him and was overjoyed to hear him repeat the declaration back at me.

I put the telephone back on the hutch, taking a second to calm my wild heart before I walked into my father's study to deliver the wonderful news.

Oliver was coming back to me.

  
~

  
Oliver kept his promise and we were reunited before the sun disappeared behind the horizon that next day.

I waited by the front window for him all morning and afternoon, my leg tapping a staccato rhythm against the hard wood floor as I sat in nervous anticipation.

My hands ached to feel his skin again. My lips longed for his kiss. My whole body was beginning to remember everything I missed about my Oliver, everything I had forced myself to shut out after he went away.

I was a nervous wreck, I didn't eat anything that Mafalda prepared, too sick with anxiety to think about food. I just wanted Oliver.

I heard the sound of tires crushing the pebbles along our driveway around 3 in the afternoon. My heart began to pound faster and faster and I was sure that everyone in the house could hear it's unsteady beating.

Oliver. Oliver was here.

I rushed outside just as the taxi stopped its forward motion.

The backseat door swung open with such a force I thought it might swing straight off its hinges.

And all of a sudden Oliver was there, slamming the door behind him and taking three large steps to get to me.

He wrapped me inside his arms like had had several months ago and I breathed in his scent.

We were tangled up together once again, neither knowing whose limbs were whose what with all the closeness.

I almost cried being so close to the man I loved after months of agonizing separation.

He had returned to me and I was forever grateful.

He pulled out of the bone crushing hug to kiss me with all the energy he had left. He must be so jet lagged, but we stood there for close to twenty minutes just kissing and holding and loving.

We finally went inside and my parents had their turn greeting Oliver.

My father treated him like the prodigal son when he hugged Oliver and welcomed him into our home yet again.

Our future was unclear and so much had yet to be spoken about but I was standing in my childhood home holding the man I was in love with and at that moment, everything was okay.

  
~

  
_Finito_

 

 


End file.
